


The Uzumaki Way

by CreativeSweets



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fivesome - F/M/M/M/M, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Incest, Incest, M/M, Manipulation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mito is a Queen, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Orgy, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Sex Club, Size Difference, Threesome - F/M/M, Uzumaki Headcanons, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2020-10-29 18:00:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20800622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativeSweets/pseuds/CreativeSweets
Summary: If Mito left these heathens to sort out their issues by themselves, they'd all be dead before they'd even agree to disagree. It's time Mito does what's best for those she holds dearest.Starting with her brother-in-law, Tobirama.





	1. Tobirama

Mito always knew that her husband has had eccentric tastes—oh what the fuck. Mito’s always known that Hashirama wants to fuck his younger brother. It’s not even that she has any issues with them being brothers, not at all. In fact, she finds that image rather hot.

Hashirama’s truly the only person capable of making Tobirama look small.

No, it’s definitely not their familial relationship. In fact, Mito fondly recalls a time Aunt Natsuko fingered her so hard that she blacked out. Mmm, if her memory serves her, the original argument was that Mito didn’t agree that Aunt Natsuko should go on some long term mission halfway into Wind Country. Ah yes, and because she was so vocal at the time about her opinion, even butting heads with Aunt Natsuko when she came over for dinner, they were sealed up into a Room, both fuming and angry.

Naturally, two Uzumaki who are angry with each other are prone to one of two things: fight, or fuck.

(Sometimes, even both.)

Afterwards, Mito let her favorite aunt go on her mission no longer feeling like things were left unsaid, and Mito would like to think Aunt Natsuko felt better afterwards, too, knowing Mito cared so much for her.

Mito has yet to see an argument last after a Room session.

Growing up, she was taught that it’s never good to bottle up strong emotions, that it’s much easier—and safer—to simply let them run their course and avoid unintentional damage. And that’s why Rooms were made; specific rooms with specific wards to prevent unwanted consequences (such as babies from too close of relatives).

It didn’t take much to convince her sweet Hashirama to build an extra room in their house. She’s barred him from entering, much to his disappointment, however Mito wants to tailor it in _peace and quiet_, which became much easier after her first few sound suppression seals were placed.

She’s even come in to meditate some mornings.

Now, with most of the seals up, she simply needs to gather the right people and everything else will work itself out.

* * *

Hashirama is laying across his desk, and given how Madara looks one word away from murder, Mito concludes that her husband hasn’t been working very productively today. Time to change that.

“Hashirama, dear.”

“Mito!” He stands up eagerly and comes over to tower over her.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Are you going to show me your room now?”

Mito sends that question the look it deserves. Since it’s been built, Hashirama has petulantly asked her every surprise whether he gets to go in her room or not. Instead of her normal _no, not right now, dear_ she gives him a small smile and says,

“Yes, but you have to finish all your work for the day. I’ll be waiting. No sooner than five, dearest.”

The look on Hashirama’s face is one she’ll remember for a very long time. Now, time for some last minute finishing touches.

* * *

“I’ve never seen seals like these before.” Tobirama says as he peers at the faintly glowing seals on the walls.

Honestly, it was simply too easy to get Tobirama in here, the allure of checking over her seals too great a thing to resist for him.

“Mm,” Mito hums in agreement, “they’re very common with the Uzumaki; nearly every building has a room just like this one, sometimes even two if it’s a large enough building.”

Tobirama pauses in his perusal and Mito can see the small furrow in his brow, the small frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. Well, that won’t do; she wants Tobirama to relax.

“Mito—nngh!”

Mito catches Tobirama easily as he sways towards her.

“What’s your least favorite food, Tobirama?”

“M-My . . . ?” Tobirama stares up at her from where he’s leaned so heavily against her side.

She tsks but moves on; clearly Tobirama’s feeling the effects of her drug a bit earlier than she expected.

“Tobirama”—Mito makes sure to catch his eye as she places him on the soft, raised bed—“If you say _desert_, I’ll stop. Do you understand?”

Tobirama looks so good with a flush on his cheeks, Mito thinks as she takes his happuri off.

At Tobirama’s nod, she continues to divest him of his shirt.

“You love your Anija, yes?” Her hands trail across his pale shoulders, the red marks swirling over one shoulder.

It’s not a question, not really. Not with how Tobirama turns his head away, not with how Mito sees the way Tobirama shifts his legs. The drug Mito gave Tobirama isn’t an aphrodisiac; she’s not that crass. It’s a form of light sedative that makes someone . . . less inhibited, more willing to ask for and do things they want to do.

She had a strong suspicion that Tobirama liked Hashirama in a more-than-brothers sort of way, but the fact that he’s getting flustered in her presence is certainly a nice treat.

Perhaps she’ll enjoy this more than she originally planned. She thumbs a red tattoo on his cheek as she turns his head back towards her. This close she can see those red eyes focus on her mouth before skittering away, only to refocus back when she licks her lips.

The moment those red eyes meet her gaze she kisses him.

A small sound escapes Tobirama and Mito feels a hands lightly touch her arm.

“We—Anija—”

“Will be here eventually.” Mito cuts Tobirama off to watch his flush darken before leaning closer to Tobirama’s ear to whisper, “Don’t you want to feel him, all of him? Don’t you want to show your Anija how pretty you can be taking his cock?”

Mito _sees _the shudder Tobirama gives at her words when she straightens. She taps his cheek lightly.

“Well?” She asks, already aware of what his answer will be.

Tobirama gives her a small nod, and all Mito can do is smile.

* * *

Mito takes a moment to pause and enjoy the _full _feeling. Not quite the same as her husband, who has a bit more girth than Tobirama, but then again, Tobirama’s a little bit longer than her husband.

There’s a soft noise below her and hands travel up her thighs and waist, getting precariously close to her breasts, and when she opens her eyes, sure enough, Tobirama is looking up at her, flushed and hesitant.

Tsking, Mito grabs her brother-in-law’s hands and guides them up that scant space and rewards the light inquisitive grope with a swivel of her hips.

Tobirama groans and his hips rise on instinct.

“Careful, Tobirama”—Mito continues to grind down, enjoying the soft sounds of Tobirama fill the room—“You wouldn’t want to finish inside and wind up the father of your niece or nephew, would you?”

Not that that’s even remotely possible. Even if Mito didn’t have anti-fertility seals in the room, she took her tea every morning. But she didn’t have to tell Tobirama any of that.

Instead, she reveled in how her statement made Tobirama freeze, made him grit his teeth and dig his fingers into her hips.

Ah, seems she must have struck a nerve.

Mito drags a hand down to play with herself as she finally starts moving.

“Ah—_Mito_—” Tobirama cuts himself off with a choked off sound.

She feels Tobirama’s legs twitch underneath her and all it takes is one look at Tobirama’s pinched expression to have her orgasm crest over her, swiveling her hips a few more times as she rides the feeling before stopping.

The whine Tobirama makes will be featuring in her dreams, Mito’s sure of it.

“Now now, Tobirama,” Mito says as she lifts herself off him, “one might think you _wanted _to finish inside me.”

Without another word, Mito slides down Tobirama’s body, hands gripping and holding his thighs open and licks up his cock. There’s a garbled noise that could potentially be her name. Maybe. Mito hums and takes Tobirama into her mouth.

The taste of herself is slightly tangy, but the fact that it’s on Tobirama’s cock makes it a bit more palatable.

While one hand holds the base of Tobirama’s cock, the other works its way down to tease a spot underneath his balls.

“Mito!”

Mito pulls off, just long enough to get out, “Be as loud as you want; the seals can handle it,” before going back to sucking cock.

Saliva that’s dripped down makes her probing fingers slide easier, and she’s just contemplating pushing one inside when Tobirama’s legs tense up, squishing her slightly, and he comes with a sharp moan.

She wrings his cock, milking the last drops out and causing Tobirama to shiver from the overstimulation.

He looks good like this, Mito thinks, all boneless and losing the sharp edge he always has.

She licks her lips, tasting the both of them. And to think, that their night is only just beginning. She gets up after patting Tobirama’s hip in a silent command to stay and puts on her nagajuban before sitting down next to Tobirama’s hips. This way, she’s between Tobirama’s cock and her husband when he comes through the door. Her husband that should be—

“Mito! It just turned five and I’m really excited to see—_eep_!” Hashirama stops in the doorway, shock evident on his face.

“Ah, anata, welcome home.” Mito smiles as she watches her husband’s gaze travel between her and the blushing, naked Tobirama laid out behind her.


	2. Hashirama

Mito thought that, after spending so much time creating this room, and thinking about what, exactly, would happen in this room, she’d be prepared for the image that her husband and brother make together.

She is wrong. So very, very wrong.

In the end, she supposes it doesn’t matter, because—

“_Oh_, you two look so good together.”

“M-Mito?” Her husband squeaks at him and honestly, it’s like he’s a blushing virgin all of a sudden.

At least Tobirama’s blushing is warranted, given that he’s giving this particular act to his brother for the first time, and he’s not able to meet her gaze. She’ll let him keep that last defense, for now.

Mito raises her eyebrow. “Am I not allowed to enjoy the sight of my husband and my brother touching each other? I have to say, husband mine, that you’re probably the only person who can make Tobirama look _small_.”

And really, it’s such a pretty picture: Tobirama laying on his back, legs spread by those large, tan hands—Mito knows exactly how that feels—and being dwarfed by her literal tree of a husband as their hips touch.

They’re taking a moment, still and shivering, and Mito’s sure it’s because they’ve both fantasized about this, and are trying their best to stave off their orgasms.

Tobirama makes a strangled noise and his grip on the sheets tightens.

How interesting.

Mito smirks, a slow thing, and situates herself a bit closer to him, her nagajuban long tossed off to an unused corner of the bed. Pressed against his side, she skims her fingers over his chest with a feather-light touch. He’s so sensitive and it really makes Mito want to _grip_, want to scratch and leave marks—but it’s Tobirama’s first time here, and it wouldn’t do to be needlessly rough.

She looks up to catch her husband’s gaze as she lifts a leg to wind around Tobirama’s and teasingly stroke whatever tan skin her foot can find.

Making a show of it, she leans down even further to Tobirama’s face. He automatically turned his head towards hers and she rewards his eagerness with a kiss that makes him wind the arm she’s propped over around her waist. It makes arousal curl inside her as she turns the kiss wet and rough, making sure Tobirama’s left breathless. Then she nudges his face to the side and nibbles on his ear before speaking.

* * *

“Look at how well you’re taking your Anija’s cock, how well you’re letting him carve a place deep inside—”

Hashirama’s grip on his sweet baby brother tightens as he listens to Tobirama’s sweet moan that cuts his wife off, as he watches Tobirama’s face pinch together in beautiful orgasm, as he feels Tobirama clench around him in such a delicious way.

It never fails to surprise him just how dirty of a mouth his wife has, though it doesn’t surprise him that Tobirama fell to it as quickly as he once did. He would laugh it up with Tobirama if he weren’t balls deep inside him and desperately trying not to blow his own load.

Instead of focusing on the tight, tight, slick heat he’s buried in—so much different than Mito—he leans down to meet Mito in a quick kiss before kissing his Tobirama. He’s soft, softer than Hashirama’s seen him in a long, long while, and makes a quiet noise of contentment that makes his heart squeeze.

How long has it been since he’s even asked about, even _considered _Tobi’s happiness?

Mito’s hand runs up his arm like she knows what he’s thinking. She probably does, perceptive woman as she is. Then her hand is grabbing his, sliding it towards her breast and gently groping herself with his hand and all worrying thoughts get shoved to the back of his mind.

And then, as he grabs her on his own, she guides his hand down, brushing past Tobirama’s hand—that twitches when they reach it—lower still until Hashirama’s fingers are pushed into _her _hot and wet channel.

Hashirama groans and lowers his head to suck on Tobirama’s convenient neck and grinds his hips further into his baby brother. At Tobirama’s exclamation of shock, and the twitch around his cock, he raises his head only to feel his own cock twitch at the sight of his Tobirama being guided into groping his wife, into a kiss full of more tongue and teeth and leaving his gaping mouth trailing saliva when they part.

The picture they make is too much, and Hashirama whines and presses into Tobirama as he spills inside him, hiding his face back inside the crook of Tobirama’s neck.

* * *

Mito notices her husband’s pitiful whine as he orgasms. His fingers have stilled inside her and she graciously allows him his few, disoriented moments. Instead, she bends her leg and guides Tobirama’s hand further down from her breast and revels in the whimper her brother makes as he reaches her wet cunt.

She doesn’t even need to press her fingers against his own to encourage him to rub and enter her. She hums her encouragement, licking into that pliant mouth again as her own hand removes itself from the tangle of fingers. They unerringly find Tobirama’s cock, already more than half hard and twitching where it’s all but sandwiched between him and her husband. Tobirama must clench, because Hashirama takes a sharp breath in and his fingers start moving insider her again.

“Mercy, Mito.” He says in that adorable voice of his she loves so much.

“Anata, you know I normally would, but it’s not all about you this evening, now is it? We wouldn’t want our sweet Tobirama here to think we don’t care for him, would we?”

She knows from his answering moan that her words hit their mark. Then Tobirama moans and Mito clenches around their fingers, because they’re still so incredibly hot, tangled up in each other, the differences between them so much clearer this way.

That, and the fact that her husband looks good with his teeth chewing marks on Tobirama’s neck certainly helps her crest her own orgasm.

Mito simply breathes as she watches her two most beloved people kiss each other sweetly. Ah, yes, Mito thinks as the kiss turns deeper, the Uzumaki way of dealing with problems really _is _the only effective way.


	3. Izuna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags have been added~
> 
> I'm sure you can figure out why there's another chapter~ ;3c
> 
> Enjoy!!

Mito is glad that Izuna feels comfortable enough with her to not take her invitation to afternoon tea as a passive aggressive way to pressure him into telling her his secrets.

Of course, when she had dragged Tobirama to one tea session, the change in atmosphere was unmistakable.

Which is why she planned this little afternoon, she thinks smugly as she sips her tea. Tobirama had told her of his feelings towards Izuna, how it felt like there was a tension there because of how close he had gotten to actually killing the other, how Tobirama believes that Izuna would never—could never—forgive him.

Mito calls bullshit on that last bit, because the only reason the atmosphere felt tense, was because Izuna was attempting not to spend the whole time staring at Tobirama.

And since she cares a lot about her cutest brother-in-law, she’s decided to help him with this relationship, too.

“Is Tobirama coming today?” Izuna asks, looking into his teacup.

Oh, Tobirama will be coming today, Mito will make sure of that. But given how it’s a surprise, she decides to leave out a few details.

“He will be coming later.” Which, technically, isn’t even a lie.

Mito watches Izuna take a deep breath in and let it all out.

They lapse into a comfortable silence as both drink their tea. As Mito’s pouring them a second cup, Izuna launches in on a story about what shit Madara’s stirred up with the clan elders. It’s really fascinating to hear his antics from the lens of his little brother.

What’s more fascinating—and more pertinent to her plans—is the way Izuna fidgets, the way his legs shift and move. It takes some effort, given how deep his eye color is, but she confirms her theory:

The aphrodisiac is beginning to affect Izuna.

Of course, at such a low dosage, and at the rate they’ve been drinking it, it won’t do more than simply get one hot and bothered under the collar. Mito has no use for puddles of Uchiha that can’t do anything other than whine and pant and drool.

Perhaps another day, as a gift for Tobirama.

“Say, Izuna, I don’t think I’ve told you yet.” Mito _knows _she hasn’t told him yet. “The room I’ve been working on is finally finished.”

“Oh wow, really?! That’s amazing! Thank the Sage, because Hashirama’s been complaining to Nii-san, and _he’s _been complaining to _me_—what’s in it, anyways?”

And there it is, the curiosity she knew would come. She simply smiles a little bigger, knowing what’s waiting for them in there, and says, “Would you like to see?”

* * *

“Mito, please—” Tobirama cuts himself off with a whine, turning his head back away as those red eyes notice Izuna.

Izuna gapes and his sharingan whirls on instinct. Because, because—

Tobirama is lying on his back on the bed, his wrists cuffed to the outsides of his ankles and there’s a rod keeping his bent legs spread. From where he’s rooted to the spot, Izuna can just make out the tip of Tobirama’s dick and he really, really is not prepared for _any _of this.

Mito lightly brushes past him towards Tobirama and Izuna feels a stab of jealousy, hot and burning, underneath his breast. Then Mito coos.

“Tobirama”—Mito brushes some hair away away from his face and Izuna sees the pink all the way from where he’s standing—“Will you be a good boy for me?”

_Izuna _turns pink, even though the question isn’t directed at him, no one’s even _looking _at him, and he swallows around his suddenly dry throat when he sees Tobirama nod.

Mito pats Tobirama’s head before standing up and striding over towards him. His back straightens automatically and then Mito’s delicate hand is on his shoulder, her lips brushing his ear.

“Be gentle with him and perhaps I’ll be gentle with you, later.”

Izuna gapes, but she speaks again before he can even begin to respond to that.

“You have one hour before I’ll be back; he’s all ready for you.”

* * *

When Mito said to lay down, Tobirama didn’t question it.

A fact he’s sorely questioning now as Izuna seems to have regained his senses enough to silently cross the room. Tobirama wants to lash out, wants to roll over, wants to make Izuna look away and get out—except he’s a good boy, and good boys listen to Mito, listen and follow instructions, listen and get rewarded for doing a wonderful job.

His situation becomes more and more uncomfortable as Izuna makes his way closer; he’s naked, tied up on the bed with a large piece of mokuton plugging him up (which his dick reminds him feels very, _very _nice) while his rival has all his clothes on and still looks fairly shocked.

Embarrassment lights his face up as Izuna finally comes close enough to see all of him: the plug, the smooth ring at the base of his dick, the damning smear of precum on his stomach.

The tension slipping into his frame only serves to push the plug further into his prostate, meaning the thrum of arousal grows. It’s nothing short of the exacting methods Mito uses.

Tobirama probably should have seen this coming, with how Mito tied him up and said she’d be back.

To be fair, Tobirama had (wrongly) assumed that it would be _Hashirama _that Mito would be bringing back.

His breath hitches as Izuna reaches a hand out to touch him.

* * *

Izuna stops himself from actually touching Tobirama, stopping a scant distance away. Tobirama’s shivering and Izuna can’t look away.

“Do you”—Izuna licks his lips—“Do you let your sister-in-law tie you up like this often?”

The barest of nods.

“And you’re okay with—with this?” Izuna raises his gaze from that twitching and leaking cock to Tobirama’s red eyes.

Another nod.

Izuna shifts, kneels on the bed and slides his hands from Tobirama’s knees down those shaking, wonderfully pale thighs. He gently rubs his thumbs into the sensitive dip at the top of those hips and pulls his gaze back upwards.

“Say it.”

Tobirama squirms as much as he’s able to and Izuna presses those hips further into the bed as he gains confidence.

“Say it; say you want me, want this, want to”—Izuna pauses and blushes—“be a good boy.”

Those clearly were the right words to say, as Tobirama gasps and arches his back, putting those cute pink nipples on display. Izuna has to ground himself by biting his lip, otherwise Izuna might—well, Izuna’s not sure, but it definitely wouldn’t be anything _gentle_.

“I’ll be a good boy, please, Izuna, I want you, please fuck me, please—ahh!”

The plug isn’t the largest Izuna’s seen, but the smooth wood seems to be covered in a smooth, viscous liquid. Perfect.

Tobirama clearly seems to enjoy it.

Izuna pushes the plug back in slowly, just to see the reaction.

Another gasp, another whine as Izuna drags it back out.

And there goes all of Izuna’s patience.

The slippery liquid coats his dick so well; just his _hand _feels incredible. Izuna takes a moment to watch that glistening hole twitch—all the time he needs to be able to revisit this memory later. Then he’s sinking into that velvety, slippery heat.

* * *

Vines curl up around Izuna’s hips, up his waist, and suddenly he’s stuck balls-deep inside Tobirama, unable to move as the vines continue to creep up his arms, locking him in place.

Then the door opens, and Izuna feels panic.

It’s Mito.

But it’s also _Hashirama_.

Panic morphs into straight up confusion as Hashirama doesn’t murder him violently and feed him to his plants.

Straight up confusion morphs into confused arousal as Tobirama clenches around him and Mito starts stripping.

What.

And Hashirama still has that pleasant smile on his face, even as his wife is—is _naked_—and then _he’s _getting undressed—!!

What is going on?!

Tobirama really needs to stop clenching around him! He really doesn’t know how to feel about all of this.

* * *

Mito breathes in the panic that Izuna’s exuding, the fear and lust in his face. The confusion is pretty cute, too. No fireballs thrown about yet, so clearly the younger brother was the better option to bring in first.

Good.

And the fact that Hashirama’s eyeing up Izuna, making the vines shift and position him so he’s laying on top of Tobirama simply means Mito did a good job at her presentation. She loves when a good plan gets executed perfectly.

Now to hand out the rewards.

Kisses to Tobirama’s temples, releasing his bindings because he’s “Such a good boy, Tobira.”

Back for a deeper kiss, the high pitched squeak from Izuna is music to her ears.

Stretched out next to them, Mito simply flicks Izuna’s bangs out of his face and takes in the blush—almost as good as her Tobira’s.

“I told you I’d be gentle with you if you were gentle with Tobira.” Mito casts a look down towards her husband and nods. “And I will be. I never said my _husband _would be.”

Mito silences the gasp, the cry coming from those plush lips with her own as Hashirama presses two fingers deep into Izuna.


	4. Madara

Mito blinks at the man on her doorstep.

Uchiha Madara.

Looking just about as unpleasant as soured milk, with his hair still a mess, eye bags that have their own eye bags, and his ever-present scowl. Underneath that all, perhaps he’d be handsome.

(“Oh Mito, he’s so handsome when he smiles, it’s not even funny.” Her husband had lamented from his spot on her lap as she busied her hands braiding his hair. “I wish he would smile more.”)

“Madara, how unexpected.” To say it is surprising would be lying, since Izuna’s been over more and more, blooming underneath her touch and balancing out Tobirama more than she could have ever hoped for.

Mito knew it would only be time before Madara, ever an older brother in the way Hashirama once was and once again is, came.

“Mito-san.”

Mito waves him in before he glares a hole in Hashirama’s favorite maple tree.

“I’ll not waste your time, Mito-san.”

“Just Mito is fine.”

Mito sees Madara’s jaw clench, and her mind races to take this new information into account, to reformulate her rather nebulous plans to something more solid.

“I know Izuna is here. Or, he _was _here, not ten minutes ago, but his chakra—it’s like it has an echo here, yet I didn’t sense him leave.”

“Your brother is safe.” Ah, there is the relief that Mito expected, along with the frown returning—“He’s still here in the house, before you ask. He’s simply in my sealed room.”

Madara opens his mouth, then shuts it quickly. Clearly Madara was raised better than to outright accuse Mito of anything, especially with her stating the fact in her collected tone.

Will this scrapped together plan work?

“Is that also where the rest of the household is?”

Mito feels her heart begin to race as she thinks of the sated pile of men in her room, but keeps a calm face in place.

“Yes.”

Madara seems to look off in the direction of the room, probably trying to sense through her seals—which he won’t be able to—before getting a rather thoughtful look to his face.

He really could be quite handsome without the scowl, Mito thinks as she stares at her husband’s first crush and best friend.

Madara turns back to her and she nearly smiles in triumph at the determined look on his face.

* * *

“Nii-san?”

Madara watches Izuna—whole, unharmed just as Mito said, _naked_—

He must make a noise, or perhaps his chakra flares, but either way an equally naked Tobirama is lifting his head up from the mess of blankets to squint at him, before dropping back down. Madara notes that Tobirama’s sporting very similar looking hickeys and marks all over his neck and torso as Izuna is.

There’s a squawk, a muffled _‘stop complaining, Anija’_ and then Madara notices the large lump of man that he _thought _was his best friend roll over.

Best friends don’t fuck their best friend’s little brother!

“What the fuck,” Madara breathes out, unable to do more than stare as sheets and blankets are rearranged—Izuna always did sleep like a stupid starfish—and Izuna sits up.

“Nii-san, why are you here?”

“He’s been worried about you, Izuna.” Mito says coolly from behind him.

Madara had forgotten. He’d forgotten, and now Mito’s blocking what appears to be the only exit. But the more he looks around, the more he’s noticing the walls, the ceiling, the floor—there are seals everywhere. What is happening?!

“I’m a grown man, I can do what I want!”

Madara’s focus snaps back to Izuna. “And clearly _what _you’re doing is my best friend and his brother!”

Izuna makes a noise of protest. “And his wife.”

“And his . . . ?” Madara’s brain grinds to a complete halt.

What.

There’s more grunts and what suspiciously sounds like a slap before the largest lump under the covers comes _out _and—

“OH MY GOD, HASHIRAMA! PUT ON SOME CLOTHES!”

Madara gapes.

Hashirama, the giant, beautifully muscled stupid man, simply stands there, hands on his hips and everything on display, grinning at him.

“DON’T COME CLOSER, YOU IDIOT!”

His yell doesn’t deter his log-brained friend as he saunters closer. Mito brushes past him, sparing him a look that spells nothing good, and tilts her head up towards Hashirama for a kiss.

She most certainly gets more than a kiss, those big hands tugging her closer into a broad, sculpted chest.

Madara hates that he can see everything, including Hashirama’s reaction to seeing, holding, _kissing _his wife!

Madara hates his _own _reaction to the picture they make: Hashirama bare as the day he was born, smiling down at his wife, still fully clothed with many, many layers, her hair still impeccable.

* * *

“I think you broke him.”

“Don’t be silly, anata—that would be your doing.” Mito smiles up at her husband and presses another kiss to his lips, one he eagerly returns.

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Nii-san so red before!”

Mito hums, looking back at Madara who still looks admirably stricken. Tobirama’s been suspiciously quiet, and while normally he might still be sleeping, grouchy at being interrupted in his post-multiple orgasm sleep, Mito knows better.

“Tobirama?” She says softly, quietly, but she knows he hears her, knows that she won’t take silence for an answer, not for something like this.

Sure enough, there’s a sigh from the blankets before the messy white hair appears and Tobirama’s sullen face appears.

“I trust you, Mito.”

And that says everything she needs to know. Because while his body language certainly doesn’t indicate he’s comfortable with bringing Madara in right now, she knows most of the issue is that Tobirama still doesn’t believe he’s worth attention, worth love and affection.

It’s a good thing Mito is here to make sure he understands.

Breaking away from her husband with a loving pat on his chest, she walks towards the comatose, blushing Madara and promptly gives him a solid thwack on his back, causing him to stumble forward where Hashirama’s waiting.

“Wait! WHAT!!”

Madara flails and blushes, stammers and looks around like a caged panther backed into a corner. He seems oddly reluctant to touch Hashirama at all, making it that much easier for her husband to push him towards the bed.

Izuna helps tug him down, and then Madara squeaks when Hashirama flops down next to him.

“WHAT JUST HAPPENED?”

“It’s okay, Nii-san!”

“Yeah, just relax, Mads~”

“NO I WILL NOT! SOMEONE EXPLAIN WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR—”

“Language.”

Mito’s pulse quickens at the three hands that slap down over Madara’s mouth, Tobirama’s arm extending over Hashirama. Such good boys she has.

“I’ll tell you what’s going on only once, Madara.” Mito crosses the room and nods at Izuna who shuffles to give her room to sit right at Madara’s side. “This room is something of a family tradition, used to resolve conflicts easily and quickly. As you noticed, Izuna is much more content now than before resolving his issues with Tobirama.”

Madara narrows his eyes at her, but considering he hasn’t bit any hands yet means he’s listening.

“I believe it could do the same for you.” She leans down, watching with glee as Madara pulls away from her slightly, gaze darting off her face as she gets closer, until she can whisper in his ear. “Or do you not want to take my husband for a ride? See how his face gets as you enter him and feel his heat wrap around you?”

* * *

Madara’s face feels like it’s on fire.

Mito is a demon, she must be, to state words like _that_—words that are so incredibly damning—and look entirely unruffled.

Hands pull away from his mouth and he almost wishes for them back, so that he has an excuse not to respond to her question. He says the first thing to come to mind.

“F-Fuck you!” It lacks all of it’s usual heat, coming out much breathier and even more damning than his bright red face.

“You said I could be first, Mito!” Hashirama’s whine pulls Madara’s focus away from Mito as she throws her head back and laughs.

Hashirama’s bright red in the face, too. Izuna, the same. And even though he can’t see Tobirama’s face, the tips of his ears show how he really feels.

“Perhaps later, Madara.” Mito calmly states as soon as she gets her breath back and—oh.

_Oh_.

Madara squawks at the idea, unsure exactly just how to feel when he never even considered that option before now. Then broad, tan hands are pulling on his clothes, dragging his attention away from where Mito’s long hair is tumbling down from where she’s pulling it free of those tight buns, away from Izuna leaning in and _kissing Mito_—

“Madara~ you’ll fuck me first, right? We were friends before Mito was friends with either of us! Please please please?”

“If it gets you to shut up, then FINE!”

Tobirama’s chuckle makes him think over his phrase that he just said without thinking, and he blanches before turning bright red at the hopeful look on Hashirama’s face.

Hashirama pounces on him, causing his head to land right by Tobirama’s. Tobirama is then rolling over, facing him with a somewhat strained smile.

“Be glad he’s already been fucked today, otherwise he might actually hurt himself with how badly he wants your dick in him.”

“W-What.” Madara croaks out as he stares at Tobirama’s face as if the words would make more sense the longer he does.

They don’t.

“You should kiss!” is Hashirama’s golden nugget of wisdom as he’s pushing up Madara’s top and pulling clothing out of the way at an alarming rate.

“I—”

“Madaraaaaa—”

“FINE, YOU IDIOT!”

Madara turns his face back towards Tobirama, who looks markedly more timid, eyes looking towards where Mito and Izuna are, before nodding and then facing him with a small bit of determination.

It’s surprisingly warm, Madara thinks as his eyes slip close automatically. Then there’s a small press of tongue against his lips and Madara brings his hand up to hold Tobirama still as he presses his tongue back harder, presses into Tobirama’s mouth and really shows Tobirama how to kiss.

He nearly forgets where he is until Hashirama’s hand around his cock unexpectedly and makes him squeak and pull back.

“Hashirama, you ASS—”

“It is my ass, Madara! I’m glad you want it!”

Madara’s hand tightens in Tobirama’s hair and their foreheads hit as Hashirama, in one smooth movement, straddles him and sits his ass down on all of Madara.

“Fuck,” Madara pants and then Tobirama moans right next to him.

* * *

Mito nearly wishes for a camera, because the look on Madara’s face as Hashirama starts bouncing at the same time Izuna enters Tobirama is very handsome.

Then Madara kisses Tobirama again, but the kiss is much more panting and tongues than anything else.

Mito hums as she pets down Izuna’s back and Hashirama’s side, getting a kiss from both as they being finding their rhythm.

Mito is very glad that she had Izuna take her husband earlier, since he’s clearly wasting no more time in taking Madara in deep and the gloved hand gripping his hip means that she was entirely right in that Madara wants Hashirama.

She stares at them all shamelessly for a few moments longer, before pushing gently on Izuna’s shoulder, causing him to rearrange and sink lower onto Tobirama. A few pats to his ass tell Izuna that he did well, and serve as a small warning towards what she’s about to do. After all, she wouldn’t get in the way of Hashirama’s new reunion with his best friend just yet.

The groan Izuna lets out as her fingers easily slide in sets her blood on fire, and she lets out an indulgent sigh as she curls her fingers, watching Izuna’s rhythm falter momentarily as she rubs his prostate.

The Uzumaki way really is the best way at solving conflicts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This marks the end of the story, but omake are coming up!
> 
> Let me know if there's anything you're simply dying to see~


	5. OMAKE - MadaTobi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madara and Tobirama use the Uzumaki way to solve the issues between them - in the more traditional sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you want some porn with feelings?  
I gotchu fam

“Mito, I really—”

“Hush, in you go.” Mito has no time nor patience left for the big idiot. It’s been weeks since Madara’s settled in yet he still doesn’t do much more than look at Tobirama on his own. He always touches Tobirama after he has an excuse to, never before.

That changes today, because Mito’s sealing the both of them into the room so it can be used in the most traditional way.

They’ll either fight out their frustrations, or fuck them out, but either way, if they want to get out, they’ll need to settle whatever bad energies are between them.

“Mito? Madara?”

Tobirama stands upon her entry like such a good boy, and Madara noticeably twitches.

“You two aren’t leaving until you sort out the problems between each other. Have fun!”

* * *

“I cannot believe she would lock us in here!”

Tobirama rolls his eyes because he knows Madara can’t see him do it.

“That doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean ‘it doesn’t matter’?! OF COURSE IT DOES.”

Tobirama continues pacing, doing his best to mentally map out the experiment he was in the middle of when Mito pulled him from his lab. This is definitely going to put a halt to his plans for the day.

“Stop fucking pacing already—you’re making me tired!”

Perhaps later, Tobirama will look back and consider this a fatal mistake, but he’s going on the third day of no sleep and it seems the perfect opportunity to take a jab at the other.

“Oh, I’m _sorry_, Madara, do you need to take a seat and rest? _Some_ of us work multiple days in a row and can’t afford to simply relax for extended periods of time.”

“Why you—!!” Madara steps into his space, a snarl on his lips.

Tobirama glares at the other, annoyance flaring even higher. “Go ahead, I dare you.”

* * *

Madara lunges, skipping the jutsus and going straight for the grapples. They both go crashing to the floor with insults on their lips, graceless as their limbs tangle.

Madara grips Tobirama and shakes him. “You think I don’t respect you? Is that it?!”

Tobirama flips them and they link hands together as they push against one another.

“I _know_ you don’t respect me!”

Madara nearly growls, and knees Tobirama in the side before flipping them again. “That’s where you’re fucking wrong! You’re wrong! Because I’ve seen what fucking things you can think up; I know how much paperwork and planning you’ve done for this village—for peace! You think I simply never noticed you on the battlefield? I’ve watched you for _years_—!!”

Madara cuts himself off, eyes going wide as he realizes _exactly_ what he just said, and, and—and suddenly Madara surges downward to seal his lips over Tobirama’s.

There’s a whimper, and Madara doesn’t even care who’s it was—there’s just too many clothes between them, now. Anger and frustration have always been on the flip-side of horny and desperate for Madara. And based on how Tobirama’s pawing at his clothing, it’s the same for him.

* * *

If someone told Tobirama that he would be pinned to the floor underneath Madara at his own willingness, Tobirama would have laughed.

But here he is, panting and kissing back—

Madara lets up, and Tobirama nearly whines when it’s apparent that he’s getting up.

A huff. “I just want us to move to the bed, or do you want me to fuck you right here on the floor?”

Tobirama just blinks up at where Madara’s kneeling over him.

Madara rolls his eyes and scoops Tobirama up, standing afterwards with no outward strain. Tobirama’s impressed by the show of strength.

He’s not even thrown onto the bed, but laid down gently, which confuses him even more.

Here Madara is, spitting insults at him one moment, then saying he’s, what, secretly watched him for _years_? He has no idea what he’s supposed to think, what he’s supposed to respond with.

Taking off the rest of their clothes gives Tobirama a moment to collect his thoughts, but just as he’s about to say something, Madara’s mouth is back on his, pushing him down further until he allows his arms to buckle and his torso to hit the bed.

Then Madara’s sharingan activate, and Tobirama feels the change in his chakra, in the way it shifts. Those eyes rake down his body slowly, and Tobirama blushes furiously because he’s felt Madara activate his sharingan in the room before, but he never . . . never thought that those crimson eyes ever looked at him.

“Beautiful.” Madara murmurs, but in the quiet of the room, Tobirama hears it clear as day.

“Y-You can’t mean that.” Tobirama curses the breathy, whisper of his voice.

Madara frowns. “Mito can say her appreciations, but I can’t?”

Tobirama turns his head away, but strong fingers grip his chin and he turns his head back willingly at the request.

* * *

Madara can see the hesitation clear on Tobirama’s face, so when he trails his hand up Tobirama’s thigh, he speaks up.

“This still okay? You’re still okay to continue?”

He gets a jerky nod in answer, and so Madara continues on, helping Tobirama spread his legs a little wider and settling himself between them. The ever present lube found in this room gets pushed into his hand by Tobirama, and Madara makes sure to press a kiss into one of his blushing cheeks.

“You really are beautiful, you know.”

Tobirama makes a strangled noise as a response, but perhaps that was more in response to Madara pushing one of his fingers inside him at the same time.

“So smart, too,” Madara continues as he watches Tobirama’s blush darken and spread to the tips of his ears and down his chest. “You know, I don’t think that this village would be much of a village without you; you do so much, you designed so much of the infrastructure, you’ve even made new rankings for mission assignments—why are you crying?”

Madara reaches his free hand up to stop a tear from rolling down. “Too fast for you?”

Tobirama shakes his head. “N-No, I—It’s just—I don’t do _that_ much; it’s your and Anija’s dream.”

Leaning down, Madara presses a kiss into those red-bitten lips. He focuses more on the way Tobirama shudders against him, how his lips and tongue chase Madara’s mouth, how his breath hitches when Madara finally removes his fingers and gently nudges his way in.

Now it’s Madara’s turn to bite his lip, because _fuck_ Tobirama is hot and clenching around him sporadically.

“Shit.”

Madara huffs at Tobirama’s curse. Gently rocking further in earns him two hands digging into his shoulders, long pale legs hitching up higher on his waist in an urge for more.

Madara eagerly complies.

* * *

Tobirama feels completely out of breath, panting as Madara—Madara!—pushes further into him and kisses a line up his neck. He tilts his head to give Madara more room and immediately there’s a happy noise and more kisses, and licks, and _bites_—

Tobirama whimpers.

“You’re so pretty like this, all blushing and soft.”

Panting, Tobirama doesn’t know whether to push Madara away so he can shut him up, or pull him closer so he gets lost in the physical sensations and then shuts up. Either way, Tobirama doesn’t know if Madara even realizes he’s speaking.

“You always gave Izuna so much _grief_ that half of my battle memories are of _you_—”

“You’ve created such inventive jutsus—”

“The ceasefire wouldn’t have lasted nearly as long—”

“Peace talks went so smoothly because of your fair treaty—”

“The whole village is so lucky to have you—”

“Hashirama, and Mito, and all of us are so lucky to have you—”

Tobirama sobs, unable to handle it.

* * *

Madara pauses as soon as he feels the small shakes, hears the small sniffs. He tries to push himself up, to unbury his face from Tobirama’s neck, but Tobirama just grips his shoulders tighter, preventing him from pulling back.

“Tobirama?”

A sniffle. “Don’t—Don’t stop.”

He must wait too long because Tobirama’s heels dig into his back pointedly.

Madara huffs, but he picks his leisurely pace back up, pressing his lips against Tobirama’s throat, ignoring the taste of tears there. He could _feel_ his sharingan whirl faster as he starts speaking again.

“So lovely, so smart, so worth getting to know, to _understand_—”

A hitched half-sob and those pale legs squeeze around him briefly.

“Won’t you show me? Like you do with Mito, and Hashirama—will you let _go_—”

Madara nearly bites off his tongue as he feels Tobirama clench impossibly tight around him and make a noise he can only ever recall him making _once_ since he’s come into this room.

There’s something so gratifying to Madara as Tobirama taps his shoulder—that Tobirama trusts him enough that he’ll stop, that he’ll pause despite how desperately he wants to _continue_ and fuck himself even deeper—

Breathe.

Madara distracts himself by pressing quick kisses to Tobirama’s neck. Tobirama shudders underneath him and then slowly relaxes. Even Tobirama’s arms unwind from around his shoulders and allow him to slowly lift himself up.

His dick gives a valiant twitch when he catches and holds Tobirama’s soft gaze, as the last tears seem to cling to those white lashes, as Tobirama gives him a nod.

“You can continue now—as much as you need.”

Such blanket permission that Madara’s never heard given to _him_ specifically.

He brings a hand up to cup Tobirama’s cheek and leans down for a kiss to show Tobirama that his meaning has come across, that Madara, once again, sees him. There’s a soft noise, barely more than an exhale of breath, but Madara knows now. Knows that he knows _exactly_ how to read Tobirama and his subtle, nonverbal cues.

There’s a soft pressure on his neck as Tobirama winds a hand through his hair and pulls him farther down.

Madara needs no more encouragement.

* * *

Tobirama’s vaguely aware that he _must_ be making those small, breathy noises that Mito loves to wring out of him, because for all that this feels similar to when she fucks him well past the point of overstimulation, it has a much, much different energy—a different atmosphere.

Especially when he’s already worn-down from crying so much, from _finishing_ while clutching Madara to him. The sweet pleasure-pain is welcome, however, because it’s just him and Madara right now, and he’s well past the emotional point of caring what he looks like or what sounds are coming out of his mouth.

What he _does_ care about is the way Madara’s face pinches as he nears his peak, is the way one of Madara’s hands presses against the side of his face, is the way their foreheads touch as they both pant for air.

“A-Ah, fuck—!”

Madara’s eyes squeeze shut as he presses his forehead into Tobirama’s. He thrusts in two, three more times before stilling, and Tobirama clenches around the cock spilling inside him experimentally, earning him a slight hiss.

He does it again.

Madara _whines_ and bites Tobirama’s lip in retaliation.

“You’re terrible.”

“I thought you said I was lovely and smart.” Tobirama clenches again, harder and longer.

“I take back everything I said! You’re absolutely the _worst_.” Madara’s _pouting_ which has absolutely no business looking as cute as it does on such a powerful man.

Tobirama starts chuckling, which turns into laughter as Madara sticks his lip out further to counteract his own lips that curl upwards.

Then Madara’s cock slips out of him and they both commiserate in the weird feeling. With a huff, Madara then rolls off him, onto his back. Tobirama follows and rolls onto his side, propping his head up and watching Madara’s face.

He really is quite handsome.

An arm moving breaks his concentration, and Madara taps Tobirama’s back.

“Come here.”

The soft-spoken command sends a shiver down his spine, and he takes a moment to lean down, to press a kiss to those lips, before ducking his head and shuffling around to get comfortable.

Who knew Madara enjoyed after-sex cuddles so much?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: this will be a short and hot chapter!  
also me: okay, but have you considered making it 2k and porn with feelings?


End file.
